First Times
by All.You.Really.Need.Is.Love
Summary: Bridget thinks Mark has been holding out on her. 2 weeks and still no action in the bedroom? Then one day, after a row, he cannot hold on any longer...Rated M for later content.
1. Chapter 1

Who Doesn't Love Mr Darcy

**Okay. This is my first fanfic...I wrote it because of my unconditional love of Mr Darcy & Colin Firth. Its an M, because I think it is going to get quite rude later on…I would really love it if you read & reviewed, that way, if it is rubbish I know not to continue. So, constructive comments please. Thanks & here goes…**

First times for everything. 

_Diary. _

_Had big fight with Mark. Sort of threw him out…regretting it immensely now. Cannot even remember what fight was about! _

_...Not strictly true…I said some stupid things. I want to know why he is holding out on me. Have been together for a two weeks, i.e. 4 dates, 5 lunches, 12 texts, 2 phone calls & 9 mind blowing kisses. But still nothing more, have invited him up for __**coffee**__ 7 times, and each time he declines._

_Why? Does Mr Fancy have a deep dark secret? Is he under endowed? I doubt it. He's not into kinky stuff is he? Maybe he doesn't find me attractive? But he said 'just the way I am'. Surely he hasn't changed his mind? Hope not. Maybe he has to wait, until one night he is so drunk he can manage to do me without throwing up. _

_Hope he isn't frigid. Though his kisses have proven that theory false…_

_Missing him lots. He has only been gone half an hour. Maybe this is it. Maybe he does have a secret, but he can't tell me. He probably just expected us to be one of those anti-sex couples. But now he knows that that can never be; he is gone. Off to find some poor librarian who will respect his need to sleep in separate beds? _

_What if he doesn't believe in sex before marriage? I hope not. Surely, I won't have to marry him, just to get into his pants?!_

_Have worked self into a state. Don't even know if he will be coming back yet. _

_Will have bath to calm self down. Hopefully will not be end of romantic life as know it. _

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Mark paced about outside her flat. Watching the lights flicker on and off as she moved from room to room. How could she think he was holding out on her? He wasn't. Many times, after their dates, late at night, he would just lie awake and think of her; everything about her. When they were kissing on her doorstep, he had to clench his fists to stop himself from grabbing her and taking her there & then.

And when she asked him up for _coffee_…it would take him several moments of hesitation before he could trust himself to give the right answer.

How could she mistake all of his efforts?

He paced up to the little metal box by the buildings front door. He looked at her flat number, with her name printed next to it:

Jones.

Even her name made his breath come short.

A light came on above his head, he looked up startled. He heard a window being pulled and a silent "shit" escaping her mouth.

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_Shit. _

_Shit. Shit Shit. _

_Mark bloody Darcy is down stairs! I have been waiting two hours for him to turn up again, and now he bloody has the nerve to turn up whilst I am looking a complete disaster! Must begin ultimate speedy dress up session before he rings buzzer. _

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Mark banged his head against the wall. She clearly didn't want to see him.

Worth a shot anyway.

He buzzed.

Nothing.

Buzz.

She picked up, he could hear her breathing. Hesitating. Deciding.

"Bridget, please." He started. "Let's be adults – "

She interrupted him. "I am being an adult."

She lowered her voice & he had to press his ear to the box to hear her.

"I have just got out of the bath. I am all..." she searched for the right word, and failed "…ugly. If you wait a few moments I will be able to face you in a more lady-like fashion. I am, after all, a lady."

He could hear the smile in her voice. He smirked.

"Very well. Unlock the door now, and I will come up in ten. No more, no less. Ten minutes to do your worst."

"Fine." She buzzed him up, and dashed into her bedroom.

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The bath had been the hottest temperature she could have it, without quite burning her skin off.

The result was she had come out looking unbelievably red & shiny.

She brushed on some powder to calm her coloured cheeks down a bit.

Then she turned to her outfit.

She looked down at what she was wearing. Problem.

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_I was wearing one of his old shirts and pyjama bottoms. Ones with little ducks on. Uh-Oh. _

_Tore apart wardrobe looking for half decent clothes but all were too slutty, too tight, too big, or too damn ugly!_

_Decided on a little yellow dress. Not too slutty, or too 'my mother' style…unless he likes that kind of thing?_

_Had taken off pyjama bottoms when realised underwear was decidedly below standards. Stood with hands on hips, staring at yellow dress & open underwear draw when…_

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He watched the second hand tick round. Ten minutes! Finally! Longest ten minutes of his life!

He darted to the door, before an idea struck him and he slowed down.

He trod lightly up the stairs. He could hear her moving in the bedroom.

He pushed open the bedroom door to find her with her back to him.

He stopped dead. His mouth literally fell open.

She stood, hands on hips, hair down over her shoulders in a mess, wearing nothing but his shirt. She clearly wasn't aware of him.

He had never seen anything so sexy in his whole life.

"Bridget." He gasped out.

She visibly jumped & turned round, trying to pull the shirt down to cover her legs up. In doing this, she succeeded in pulling it further down her chest, giving him a nice glimpse of cleavage.

"Mark! Get out! I'm not done yet! You cannot see me like this!" She squealed.

He closed his mouth. And formed it into the hottest smirk she had ever seen. She suddenly felt very aware that he was fully dressed in huge black business coat and suit, and she was wearing his shirt & tatty knickers.

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_He must have picked up on this too, because he suddenly shrugged off his coat and threw it on the bed…oh that coat! So big and warm and thick and laced with the smell of him…_

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As soon as he dropped it, she darted forward and picked it up, wrapping its bulk around herself.

He grinned at her, she was quite insane.

"Get out. Wait in the living room." She repeated, trying to remain dignified. "I am in no fit state to talk at the moment."

"Bridget." He stepped towards her, they were almost touching. Even through the bulk of the coat, she could feel the heat, the power, the sexual energy emanating off him.

"I wasn't planning on talking."

**R&R?? **


	2. Chapter 2

"I wasn't planning on talking

…**Seems to be going down quite well so far! So here is next chapter. It is really quite rude, nothing weird or kinky though – just in detail. Sorry if that puts any of you off reading further on. I loved the Bridget Jones films, and have started reading second book. Am loving it! Cannot bear to put it down! So has inspired me further….**

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"I wasn't planning on talking." He said, closing the distance between them, so his long firm body was pressed up against her shorter, slightly squishier one.

He craned his neck down. His lips touched hers. And her senses slipped away from her. At that moment, her whole world centred on his mouth. That kiss. Somehow it was better than all the other kisses they had shared, maybe because this time they could tell where it was heading… All other thoughts were quickly ushered out of her head.

He slipped his hands to her shoulders and slid the coat off her. She shivered. He assumed she was cold and wrapped his arms around her, one hand behind her neck, pulling her mouth deeper to his. She was not shivering from the cold, more from the delight, the pleasure and arousal that one kiss could deliver.

Her hands idly slid up to his tie and began to undo the knot. When it was loose enough, they broke the kiss momentarily to allow her to lift it off his head. He placed small, wet kisses at the corners of her mouth before plundering it again.

She then began to pick at the buttons on his shirt, but her fingers wouldn't work properly. Her brain was no longer connected to the rest of her body. He brushed her hands away gently, before tearing open his shirt regardless of the buttons he sent pinging everywhere.

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…_so he __**can**__ be spontaneous…_

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She dragged her mouth away from his and trailed piping hot kisses down his firm jaw, neck and to his chest. He had a perfect amount of hair, covering his perfect body.

He wasn't all six pack and muscle…but he was firm…and had nice Pecs…she flicked his nipple with her tongue before returning to his mouth. He moaned.

He lifted up her legs, and she wrapped them around his waist, grinding her hips into his. They moaned against each others lips.

Once again, they separated for air. She linked her hands behind his neck for extra support.

"Mark," she panted "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He gulped for air, and nodded.

"Good." She smirked.

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He took a shaky step backwards and collapsed on the bed. He flopped backwards. She was now sat astride him, and she loved it.

She rolled her hips in circular motions, grinding against his hard crotch.

Suddenly, he seemed almost to wake up.

He sat up, and spoke normally – if not a little too fast.

"Nope. Bridget, this won't do. You're taking too long. I need you now – there is no time for games."

She sat open mouthed, shocked at this sudden declaration.

He took her by surprise again by abruptly toppling her over, so she was lying down with him hovering over her.

"Well, Miss Jones." He whispered, his breath tickling her face. "I appear to be wearing too many clothes."

Again, he got up quickly, backed away from the bed and began to undo his trousers.

Watching him strip in this simple form rapidly became the most sexy, hottest, most arousing thing she had ever seen.

Clearly, he was enjoying himself too.

Once he was naked, and his penis stood up past the tightness of his stomach, he stood at the foot of the bed.

"Miss Jones." He said again, and tremors shook up her body. "You are _still _wearing too much." He mocked a frown and disappointment.

She feigned surprise.

"Oh yes! So I am…" She speedily pulled his shirt off over her head, and ever so slowly reached behind her back, and unclipped her bra.

Mark kneeled on the bed in front of her.

She let go, it dropped into her lap.

He pounced forwards, knocking her back down, laying fully on top of her.

She gasped, and felt his gorgeous erection pushed into the top of her thigh.

He trailed his hands up her leg, along her stomach and up to her breast.

He circled then with a feather touch, making her shudder and whimper whenever he could.

He glanced up at her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly pouted in ecstasy.

He opened his own mouth, and leaned down, closing it over her taught nipple. She moaned his name loudly.

He halted his attentions to her chest, and looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"See Bridget," he whispered across her chest. "This is what you do to me."

She struggled to lift her head to look at him, her expression asking for a further explanation.

"I completely forgot what I was supposed to be doing." With that, he trailed his hands back down her waist to where her old knickers rest baggily on her hips.

He slid his finders under the hem and pulled them down her legs ever so slowly, so she could feel every touch as his fingers slid along her figure.

At her feet he slipped them off & threw them over his shoulder. He crawled back up her body.

She found her voice.

"So, Mark," She hesitated. "What was it you were _supposed_ to be doing?" She said, a smirk on her face and a playful note in her voice.

He looked into her eyes for what seemed a lifetime. His gaze was so passionate & intense she felt herself blushed & grow excited under it.

"This." He said and thrust fully into her.

Her mouth had been open to speak, but now no sound came out of it.

Her eyes were closed, savouring the feel of him inside her. They both stayed like that, feeling each other for moment.

Then he pulled nearly completely out of here again, before thrusting in completely again.

The both groaned.

"Oh Mark! Why have we never done this before?!" She gasped as he began to pump in and out of her faster.

"Look at me Bridget." He said, still moving relentlessly inside her. Her lids flickered open.

Once again, she became lost in his gorgeous brown eyes.

"This is what you do to me." He said again. Thrusting harder and faster now. She nodded vigorously having lost the use of speech.

"When I am near you, I want you. I need you. Everything about you. You turn me on. You're sexy. So sexy, Bridget."

She was so turned on by this, she began to crush her hips up to his. Gasping with each turn.

He seemed to abandon the need to speak also.

"Bridget. Oh my." He murmured.

"Mark. My Mark. God." She gasped.

Increasing the rate yet again, he reached down her body to find her clit.

She let out a load moan…

"God! Mark!" Her orgasm ripped through her body. He released at the same time…

"Bridget. Bridget." He groaned.

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After, they lay spooning. Neither had been so content in their whole lives.

"I was _**so **_wrong…" She whispered to herself.

He rubbed his cheek on her shoulder.

"About what?" He asked, confused.

"Oh…" She stalled. "I thought there was something wrong with you…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Like what?" He was baffled.

"Well, I don't know. You had problems down there. Or didn't like me or something like that." She said, finding his hand and twining her fingers with his.

He propped himself up on one elbow to study her.

"No." He said, "No problems with me. And certainly none with you." He kissed her again.

"What about kinky stuff?" She questioned, sure there was something wrong & not willing to drop it.

He paused thoughtfully for a moment, before a smile swept his face again. "No. Not really."

"Oh good." She breathed in relief.

They lay silently again…

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_Mark is stood with shirt half buttoned, in front of mirror doing tie. V. sexy. _

_Had magnificent shag again. Just to prove it wasn't a fluke the first time. _

_But no, it is official – Mark Darcy is a sex god. Call the press! _

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He sat back down on the bed next to her. He tried to lean over & sneak a peek at her diary. She snapped it shut in his face and gave him her best reproachful look. The smirked & kissed.

"So Bridget…" he started "Did you honestly have no idea why I wasn't _putting out_?" Both smirked at his unusual choice of language.

"No." She replied honestly. "Tell me?"

He considered it for a moment before springing up and saying "Maybe another time." He left for work with a wink in her direction. ;-)

**Yea…sorry it was quite long…I don't think I am very good at smut, but I love the idea of sex with Colin Firth! Maybe should try nicer, clean stories? Its all down to you! :P **

**R&R? **


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